Surfs Up Shinji-kun

like, imagine you spend the better part of a decade raising a kid, and he’s SO promising, he has so much potential, more than anyone else you’ve ever trained, and you love him dearly. he’s a little misguided at times, and you have some disagreements on a few things—he resents that you would join a hero organization, and you can’t seem to get it though his head that the world is dangerous and heroes aren’t a bad thing—but he’s still just a teenager, after all, so it’s nothing you’re TOO worried about. he’s young and he’ll grow up and get over it. you know he’s a good person at heart even despite these disagreements.

and then… it turns out you’re wrong. the kid you loved like a son turns on you, beating every other disciple of yours to hell and causing them all to resign, and you’re forced to fight him, physically kicking him out of your dojo. and for a year or so, you don’t hear anything from him at all (other than an anonymous appearance in a fight tournament that you know has to be him), and it hurts, but you hope someday, somehow, he’ll be set back down the right path.

and then all of a sudden, he’s back, and he’s hunting down and fighting people working for the same hero organization as you, and you’re forced to finally retire as a martial arts teacher and look for him yourself—you brought him into this world, so it’s your responsibility to take him down. none of his fights have ended in fatalities so far, but… no, best to put him down once and for all before it gets out of hand.

and then… after everything… after he’s FINALLY been defeated, not even by you, but by a man you know to be stronger than anyone else in the world… everyone expects him to be killed. and he accepts it. you’re fighting him, but he won’t fight back; he just sits there and takes it as you beat him to shit. but you can’t do it, and you know you can’t, and everyone else knows you can’t either, so the other heroes step up, say they’ll do it for you.

but before anyone can do it, before you can put in your own word, someone stops them. a child. a little boy comes forward, claiming that garou isn’t a monster, that he’s not a bad person at all, that he’s not a villain, that he’s not dangerous, that he saved him more than once, that he deserves to live. he tells him to run, to keep living. and you look to the child, and you look to your boy, and you wonder if maybe you did something right after all.

Seeing how Bang’s thoughts about Garou have progressed has been something I’ve been looking hard to the manga to do, which it’s delivered a little on.  We had one snippet of Atomic Samurai going to the Council of Swordmasters to ask for their help because he was just that worried about Bang.   The magnitude of what Bang has given up for the sake of Garou – his standing as a hero, his reputation as a martial artist, his dojo, his students, his friends – does come through clearly in the manga.  But I wish we got more of it from his point of view. 

I’d hoped the anime would do more, too. :(

sakurai, also dumb as nails: he must be doing this to annoy me

Nor should it be.

If you want to live in a “Children of the Corn”-style bubble of innocence and purity, well, to me, that’s a startling approach to adolescence, but every generation’s got to find its own way to reject the one before, so: do as you will.  But you can’t bring the bubble to the party, kids.  Fandom, established media-style fandom, was by and for adults before some of your parents were born now.  You don’t get to show up and demand that everyone suddenly change their ways because you’re a minor and you want to enjoy the benefits of adult creative activity without the bits that make you uncomfortable.  If you think you’re old enough to be roaming the Internet unsupervised, then you also think you’re old enough to be working out your limits by experience, like everybody else, like I did when I was underage and lying about it online.  If you’re not old enough to be roaming the Internet unsupervised and you’re doing it anyway, then that’s on your parents, not on fandom.

If you were only reading fic rated G on AO3, if you had the various safe modes on other media enabled, you would be encountering very little disturbing material, anyway (at least in the crude way people tend to define “disturbing” these days; some of the most frankly horrifying art I have ever engaged with would have been rated PG at most under present systems, but none of that kind of work ever seems to draw your protests).  In the end, what you really want is to be able to seek out the edges of your little world, but be able to blame other people when you don’t like what you find.  Sorry.  Adolescence is when you get to stop expecting others to pad your world for you and start experiencing the actual consequences of the risks you take, including feeling appalled and revolted at what other people think and feel.

Now, ironically, fandom’s actually a fairly good place for such risk-taking, as, for the most part, you control whether you engage and you can choose the level of your engagement.   You can leave a site, blacklist something, stop reading an author, walk away from your computer.  Are there actual people (as opposed to works of art, which cannot engage with you unless you engage with them) who will take advantage of you in fandom?  Of course there are.  Unfortunately, such people are everywhere.  They will be there however “innocent” and “wholesome” the environment appears to be, superficially.  That’s evil for you.  There are abusers in elementary school.  There are abusers in scout troops.  There are abusers in houses of worship.  Shutting down adult creative activity because you happen to be in the vicinity isn’t going to change any of that.  It may help you avoid some of those icky feelings that you get when you think about sex (and you live in a rape culture, those feelings are actually understandable, even if your coping techniques are terrible), but no one, except maybe your parents, has a moral imperative to help you avoid those.  

Basically, all of this boils down to a generational divide on how we were raised. Like, I could have told you that, but. Really. Basically every line in this article is solid gold, and completely explains the phenomenon we’re embroiled in right now. The article specifically talks about how playing in “dangerous” playgrounds helps children mature and learn how to safely take risks. Well, fandom has long been called a sandbox for a reason, and the parallels are so close it’s bizarre.

Like, navigating your way through fandom spaces that have explicit content or disturbing themes?

“The idea was that kids should face what to them seem like “really dangerous risks” and then conquer them alone. That, she said, is what builds self-confidence and courage.”

Or

“At the core of the safety obsession is a view of children that is the exact opposite of Lady Allen’s, “an idea that children are too fragile or unintelligent to assess the risk of any given situation,” argues Tim Gill, the author of No Fear, a critique of our risk-averse society. “Now our working assumption is that children cannot be trusted to find their way around tricky physical or social and emotional situations.”

Or

Even today, growing up is a process of managing fears and learning to arrive at sound decisions. By engaging in risky play, children are effectively subjecting themselves to a form of exposure therapy, in which they force themselves to do the thing they’re afraid of in order to overcome their fear. But if they never go through that process, the fear can turn into a phobia.

Basically, the problem is this: the 14 and 15 and 16 year-olds on this sight have been, largely, helicopter-parented for every moment of every day of their lives. Many of them have never had to take care of themselves, or navigate difficult emotional situations without parental guidance. When I was a kid, the internet was the wild west, and parents universally told us that everyone on the internet was a pedophile who wanted to kill you, so you had to keep yourself safe. Now, kids always expect there to be a parent there to take care of their emotional needs, and when they go onto online spaces, the just assume that the nearest adult will fill in that role for them, whether that adult is interested or not.

Now, kids are out here saying shit like “i dont know how you dont know that as an adult its your responsibility to maintain a safe environment for children, just as much as it is their parents. for ex not swearing around kids or letting teenagers drink alcohol like every adult knows that.. “

I am not your mother. It’s not my responsibility to ensure that there isn’t underaged drinking. If I walk past a couple of teenagers drinking beers on the street, do you know what I’m going to do about it? Nothing. Absolutely nothing, because I don’t care and I’m not their mother, and I’m not your mother either. I’ll watch my mouth if I notice that there’s a kid near me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t swear in public, even if there could be kids around me that I haven’t noticed.

This expectation, that every adult is there to monitor you and watch out for you, and if they aren’t willing to do that then they’re a bad person?

“in all my years as a parent, I’ve mostly met children who take it for granted that they are always being watched.”

Or how about this chilling factoid?

“When my daughter was about 10, my husband suddenly realized that in her whole life, she had probably not spent more than 10 minutes unsupervised by an adult. Not 10 minutes in 10 years.”

These are the kids on here shouting “I need an adult!” and then getting offended when no adult rushes in to take care. It’s baffling to me, honestly, but. I didn’t grow up this way. My parents taught me how to make good decisions, take care of myself, and navigate difficult situations, both in the “real” world AND online. I… don’t really know what to say to kids whose parents didn’t.

we’ve gone years seeing Steven’s journey through his eyes, through the eyes of a half-human, half-gem. So when it came to the point that they were forcefully separated, the only way for us to watch was through that split perspective

CHILLS

“I love you, Mom.”

“And I love you, Steven.”